


It Takes One to Snow One

by Sensoo



Series: In Alio Loco [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26926267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sensoo/pseuds/Sensoo
Summary: Instead of trying to fudge expense reports, you go out for an impromptu seasonal team-building exercise: which is to say, a snowball fight, Blackwatch-style.
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Reader, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Series: In Alio Loco [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1174985
Comments: 5
Kudos: 35





	It Takes One to Snow One

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very belated gift for CatastrSophie, who won one of last year's anniversary prizes. I'm sorry this is so late. I even stole a pun title for you. I'm still writing the oneshot for this year's anniversary too. ;_;
> 
> Set during Chapter 6 on the timeline, this is pre-romance Lucky and set before her trip to Paris with Jack (and before Of Pancakes and Paperwork). It was also meant to be a drabble. It got a bit bigger than that. 
> 
> If you haven't read In Alio Loco, this might not make a lot of sense. Reader is female, any ethnicity/skin color, with the cover/nickname "Lucky Strike."

Celebrating holidays with Overwatch was joyful, inclusive, and painfully cheerful. Certain employees, mostly the type who didn’t shoot people, _relished_ decorating the halls with a mass of non-denominational knick knacks: pots of plants, candles, paper lanterns, kilometers of fairy lights. There was a predominantly Christmas-feel to most spots, you were in Switzerland after all, but the various chaplains made an effort to ensure their denominations were represented appropriately. There were baked good _everywhere_. Though, you had to be careful. At least a quarter of them were rock-hard fruitcakes recycled from previous years. That, or someone was a _terrible_ baker. Who was actually eating all that fruitcake anyway?

Evergreen garlands hung perilously low in the mess hall, occasionally clothes-lining taller agents. A variety of annoyingly festive songs played far too loudly over the tinny speakers. Electric candles lit the way to the gym. A grandly decorated Christmas tree filled the atrium. You knew it was a fire hazard, but that wasn’t your territory nor was it adjacent to your space, so it wasn’t your problem. The labs were covered in fairy lights of varying power sources, and given the unseasonably eerie green glow from some, you gave them wide berth.

The only workplace relatively free of seasonal cheer was the Blackwatch domain. Gabriel put all his energy into Halloween, which was fine with most of your coworkers. The demographic was less overtly religious there in than in the rest of Overwatch. Genji still seemed to embrace both Shinto and Buddhist traditions. Though that seemed to be more out of homesickness than any spirituality. Tataryn _sometimes_ observed Eastern Orthodox holidays, usually when he wanted a day off. As long as she got snacks, Vo didn’t care what the occasion was. Ziv would still go to temple, while still proclaiming himself an atheist, like he was daring some god to smite him for his attitude. Ziv was complicated. Sinaga was Muslim, as was Diallo, though they adhered to different sects. Sinaga was Sunni and Diallo seriously followed a branch of Mouride Sufism, her aunt a distinguished marabout.

But then there was Jesse, who despite his attitude, seemed to get really excited about Christmas. He hid it well, but you’d seen him out strolling at night, admiring the lights, the evergreen trees, and even listening to weird honky tonk renditions of Christmas carols. And as his friend, you were just had to tolerate it. You, however, were not obligated to participate.

“Come on, sugarpie, you know you want to see Reinhardt dressed as Santa while he bellows Christmas carols,” Jesse hovered over your shoulder, smelling faintly of artificial pine and gingerbread.

“...I can watch the footage from the safety of the security monitors,” you said, not looking up from your desk. It was time for one of your least favorite tasks: reviewing agent expense reports. Your coworkers were _not_ the upstanding heroes of Overwatch, but the sneaks, cheats, and criminals of Blackwatch. They were known for seeing what kind of outlandish things they could get past the bureaucracy. Hell, you would be worried if they weren’t trying to skim off the top. But that didn’t make the job any easier. You expected to be here half the night.

“Winston is going,” Jesse said, trying a new angle.

“So are Morrison, Lindholm, and Angela. I already _politely_ declined. As did Gabriel.”

“...Oh.” Jesse’s voice dropped, enthusiasm gone. “I didn’t know Morrison was going.”

You snorted. “Come on, you didn’t think his ridiculously-Midwestern ass liked Christmas?”

“Never thought much about it,” Jesse scowled, possibly at the mention of Jack’s ass. “Boss ain’t going either?”

“Didn’t sound like it,” you said with a shrug.

“Hmph.” You could feel Jesse’s eyes boring into the back of your skull “Who did your invitation come from?”

“Morrison invited me after Gabriel declined.” You shrugged. “It was an afterthought.”

Jesse grunted and pulled up a chair. “All right, we can steer clear of the carolers, but some of the others are going out to admire the lights. You should come.”

You sighed. He wasn’t going to leave you in the office to finish checking expense reports, nor was he going to sit there quietly. “Jesse-”

“Do you want to build a snowman?”

“Fuck no,” you scowled, finally deigning to look at the idiot cowboy, your left hand throbbing. “I hate the goddamn snow, or have you forgotten?”

Jesse grumbled something under his breath. “...just checking.”

“I don’t like snow. I’ve seen all the lights. I don’t have any particular attachment to this holiday, Jesse. I don’t want to go out.”

Jesse sat there, hunched over, shoulder tensed. “Yeah, OK. I get that. I just-” He looked away. “This time of year is the hardest. Everyone’s going off to see their families, their loved ones. And those of us who ain’t got nowhere else to go, well, we stick together, you know? It ain’t always family. It ain’t always pity either. It’s just...” He trailed off helplessly, clearly struggling to pick the right words.

You sat there a moment, a spike of guilt shooting through your chest. You’d been working very hard to steadfastly ignore the holidays and what they represented, because, well, you didn’t have that any more. This was your first Christmas in Switzerland. You hadn’t thought about how the rest of your friends dealt with this shit, not when you were working so hard to avoid the question in the first place. But Jesse was looking out for you as much as he was asking for help. That meant something.

You set your paperwork down, trying to figure out what you were _supposed_ to do. “You’re right,” you said, swallowing. Your mouth was suddenly too dry, your tongue numb. “Good company is always important. And these columns of numbers are just pissing me off. Maybe we can grab a thermos and take some hot chocolate, or a cocktail-”

“I’ve got whiskey,” Jesse sat up straighter.

“-But I still have to wrap up a little more of this bullshit,” you said, gesturing to the expense reports. “If you see that weasel, Tataryn, tell him to bring me his goddamn receipts.”

“Sure thing, sweetpea,” Jesse laughed, kicking to his feet. “I’ll even make the cocoa. You just finish up here.”

You raised a brow.

“I ain’t gonna burn the milk,” he scowled.

“I should hope not,” you sniffed. “Burning liquids is really negligent. I’d also prefer it unscalded. So don’t let it boil either, OK?”

“Snob,” Jesse laughed, already out the door.

* * *

You finished the easier reports, making notes on the ones that needed corrections, more documentation, and the rest of the work that you weren’t going to do tonight. As you were pulling on your coat, there came a knock on the door, and Jesse poked his head in.

“Ready?”

You fastened your coat all the way to the collar. Then put on your hat and wrapped your scarf so you had just enough room to sip your drink.

The snickers from the doorway grew louder. Both Jesse and Genji stood there with their own steaming travel mugs. Jesse had on a scarf and a light jacket. Genji was wearing a shirt that covered his entire chest. That might be the closest thing to seasonally-appropriate clothing you’d seen on him.

“I get cold,” you scowled.

Jesse just chuckled and handed you your drink. You took a sip. You didn’t think Jesse had scalded the milk, but it was a little hard to tell considering it had to be half whiskey.

“And I got you these.” He offered you a couple packs of handwarmers.

You grabbed them happily and shoved them in your pockets. You could put them in your boots later, if this was going to take awhile.

“One would think that after all that time in the Yukon, you would have a better tolerance for cold,” Genji said as you shuffled out of the office.

“I haven’t had enough whiskey or sleep to listen to your sass,” you told him.

Jesse snorted.

Genji just walked beside you like he hadn’t heard a word you said.

You wondered if Jesse had actually invited Genji, or if the ninja had just turned up and decided to come along. Genji was like a cat – if you tried to pull him in, he actively resisted. But if you left him to his own devices, he’d show up on your doorstep at the oddest times.

The three of you headed outside in comfortable silence. You drank your whiskey-cocoa, enjoying the warmth. Then Jesse pushed open the doors to the training grounds, and a cold wind whipped across your face.

Grimacing, you pulled your scarf up.

The moon was just a sliver in the sky, but it didn’t matter because there were colorful strands of lights _everywhere_. Between Diwali and Christmas, the entire place was lit up.

There were a few inches of snow on the ground, and it crackled under your boots. Jesse ambled forward, leading the way. He seemed to be following the path to the training ground. You weren’t alone out here. There were several small groups of people, also out here to admire the decorations. Some of them might even have been on dates.

On top of the traditional tree garlands, icicle lights, and festive lawn ornaments there were spiraling holographic lights, flashing colors and designs streaming into the night, the metal bases buried in the snow. Candy canes morphed into rainbows, and the silhouettes of reindeer pranced across the sky. The show looked more like something you would see at a concert or rave.

“It’s real nice, ain’t it?” Jesse asked, glancing back over his shoulder, eyes bright. “Didn’t get to celebrate like this back home.”

You nodded. “It’s pretty.” There was a quick flash of memory, back to another winter night, lit up in an entirely different way. You gritted your teeth and took a big swig of your drink. You were just out looking at holiday lights with your friends. It wasn’t the same. It wasn’t anything to worry about. It was festive. That was it.

“I hear the Strike Commander personally decorated some of those trees,” Genji said, pointing in the direction of some very tall evergreens. He stood closer than usual, his body blocking some of the wind.

“How does he find the time?” You muttered.

“Not everyone lives in their office,” Jesse said, slowing down and falling in step with you and Genji. “Even Golden Boy Morrison has to take breaks.”  
You scowled behind your scarf. “He has lackeys.”

“You should lobby the boss for your own minions,” Jesse chuckled, elbowing you lightly.

“Don’t say that,” Genji groaned. “He’ll just make us help her.”

“We’re all the Commander’s minions and I have the least seniority,” you said, rolling your eyes upward. “He isn’t going to put me in charge of you.”

You could feel the look that passed between the two men, though you were too slow to catch their actual expressions. “What?”

Jesse coughed. “You have Mihret.”

“Who is as big a handicap as a helper,” Genji added.

You jerked your thumb at him. “What he said.”

“Yeah, OK. I think we all need to relax more,” Jesse said, clearing his throat. “Get out and...I don’t know, do things.”

“Are you asking Genji on a date?” You asked with a smirk. “Should I give you guys some privacy?”

Jesse groaned and rolled his eyes. “You ain’t distracting me, sugarpie. I’m serious. It ain’t healthy to be cooped up like that.”

“McCree might have a point,” Genji said with a shrug. “Because if you think that’s how someone asks _me_ on a date, you haven’t been paying attention.”

You squinted at him. “What?”

“Oh, you missed that encounter with that weird uh...cyborg-fetishist guy.” Jesse wrinkled his nose. “Probably because you were in the office.”

“Sounds like something I probably didn’t want to see in the first place.” You already had enough nightmare fodder.

“I have much trauma from it,” Genji said with a straight face, and took a drink. “I think we need to have _nabe_ soon. It is the only way I can recover.”

“Shut up,” you laughed. “If you want hotpot, you’re going to have to help out with the shopping.”

“Oh, is that that big soup pot that everyone eats from?” Jesse asked, perking up. “Like you boil your meat and veggies in the middle of the table?”

“It’s very filling in the winter,” Genji said, glancing at you slyly. “A good meal to steel you against the cold.”

“Yeah, yeah, we can do hotpot later,” you said, rolling your eyes. “But it’s not like you actually _need_ me to do the work on that one.”

“You seemed pretty worried about my ability to boil liquid earlier,” Jesse said, nudging you in the ribs. Fortunately, your many layers padded the blow.

“And it will get you out of the office,” Genji said brightly.

“You dick-”

“Is that _the_ Lucky Strike? Outside _and_ accompanied? Is this a _date_?” The accent was heavy Eastern European, the tone way too amused. Beside you, Genji tensed, and Jesse shook his head.

You glanced over your shoulder to see Agent Fedor Tataryn and his squad, shuffling through the snow. Tataryn was in a white ski jacket, his hair loose, a scarf fluttering behind him. He looked more like some trust fund baby on a ski trip than an actual agent. He was a handsome man, a flirt, and a total asshole when it came to expense reports. Next to him, Vo stood bundled up so tightly that almost no skin was showing. That was how you would dress, if everyone else wouldn’t give you massive amounts of shit for it. People didn’t give Vo shit. Not if they wanted to keep their fingers and their hearing.

Trailing a safer distance behind the troublemakers, Sinaga and Diallo waved. Sinaga gave you a sheepish smile, while Diallo grinned, looking between you, Genji, and Jesse like there was a mystery to solve.

“Tataryn, I was just telling Jesse how much I wanted to see you,” you said cheerfully.

The blonde man chuckled, winking at you. “I get that a lot.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

Tataryn sauntered over to you, his cheeks rosy, his blue eyes sparkling. “Well, I am here now. How can I be of service?” He gave a neat little bow.

You leaned in. “Oh, it’s just a little thing-” You never lost your smile as you grabbed his lapels. “Give me your goddamn receipts when you turn in your motherfucking expense reports, you degenerate!” You snarled, yanking him closer.

He laughed. “It’s just a little paper, Lucky,” he winked at you. “Nothing to be so upset about-” You squeezed tighter, your smile stretching into something less friendly.

“And some times, they get...messy,” he added quickly, eyes widening at your expression. “I thought you wouldn’t like seeing such things. I normally toss them in the bio-hazard bin.”

“What?” You blinked, ferocity waning at that unexpected image. “What the hell are you doing to them?”

“Sometimes missions get messy, and I get covered in blood, bile, things-” He said with a shrug. “It’s kind of a secret, you know?”

Groaning, you released him, staring helplessly at Jesse who just shrugged.

“It’s true,” Sinaga piped up a small laugh. “We had to burn his BDUs after the last run.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “There was some really _nasty_ stuff on his pants.”

You valiantly held in your comment.

“And the time before that a lady poured her drink in his lap, and soaked his wallet,” Diallo laughed. “He deserved it, of course.”

Tataryn gave you a wink. “It was all for show. She really did like me.”

You glanced at Vo, unsure if the others were covering for him or if Tataryn was that careless. But Vo was too bundled up to show any tells.

“You see, I am a very unfortunate man,” Tataryn sighed dramatically, wiggling loose from your grip. “But now that I have met you, Lucky-”

“-It could get so much worse.” The drawl was low and familiar, and you froze.

Tataryn did too, his eyes going wide, his smile wavering.

Vo snickered.

“What’s going on?” Gabriel growled, from behind you. His hands rested on your shoulders, the weight reminding you that you had your arms out, trying to grab Tataryn. You lowered them.

“We’re... admiring the lights,” you said, not turning around.

“They are very beautiful.” Tataryn said. “It is a very good night to go out with friends.”

“Is that what this is?” Gabriel asked, his breath warm in your ear.

“Yup,” you nodded. “Socializing and a seasonal-team building exercise. We’re efficient like that.”

Tataryn’s team nodded along with you.

Gabriel let out a breath, his hands coming off your shoulders. You exhaled slowly.

“We even sorted out some workplace misunderstandings,” Tataryn said slyly.

“Uh-huh,” Gabriel said.

“Yup, we’re good,” you said, squinting at Tataryn. “Receipts,” you mouthed silently.

Tataryn’s smile widened.

Gabriel sniffed the air. “What are you drinking?”

“Hot cocoa,” you said, not mentioning the other half of your drink.

“What-” He didn’t get a chance to finish that thought, because as you turned to look at him, a ball of white powder exploded across his face.

You blinked. Where had that-

“Oh, sorry. I was aiming for Lucky,” Vo said, her voice deadpan, one arm outstretched.

“Really?” Gabriel scowled.

“My bad,” she said, not sounding sorry at all.

Gabriel was dressed in his Blackwatch gear, and hat. But he had brought gloves, so he just bent over, packed a snowball, and hurled it back at Vo. But she was so well-packaged, that it just bounced off and hit Tataryn.

“Now, boss-” Tataryn snickered. “What kind of example are you setting?” And he crouched down to make his own snowball.

“Really?” You shrieked as something icy hit the side of your head. Sinaga and Diallo both beamed you with their own projectiles. Swearing, you made your own weapons, wishing you had some of that stale fruitcake to put in the middle.

“Come on, you idiots!” Gabriel growled at Jesse and Genji. “Can’t you see we’re under attack?”

The return volley was just as brutal, smashing Tataryn in the face, and knocking Sinaga’s glasses off his nose.

Grinning, you scooped up some snow, lunged forward, and shoved it down the back of Tataryn’s jacket.

“You can’t fool me, Lucky!” Tataryn yelped. “Cold hands mean a warm heart!”

“Or that you’re feeling up a dead body,” you said, pelting him with more snowballs.

* * *

“That’s not _just_ hot cocoa,” Gabriel said out of the corner of his mouth while you stuffed the chemical warmers down your boots. Jesse and Genji were crouched on your other side. The four of you were hunkered down in the bushes, waiting for Tataryn’s squad to make their next move.

“Sure it is,” you said, even as he snatched the cup and took a drink.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his glove, Gabriel gave you a _look_.

“I’m off-duty and it’s coooooold,” you said, backing up.

“I thought you were the one with taste buds, chica,” he scowled. “If you think that bland Swiss Miss Whiskey milkshake is worth-”

Jesse winced.

“Is Vo blowing snow up?” You asked, hurriedly changing the subject, watching as snow geysered in four meter plumes.

“Shit-” Gabriel snarled, pushing the travel mug back into your hands. “I’m not even goddamn surprised-”

“That Vo brought explosives to a snowball fight?” Jesse asked. “Because that’s...not normal.”

“It is for Vo,” Genji said.

“And here I was, congratulating myself for putting rocks in my snowballs,” you muttered, because you were still in the Stone Age, comparatively speaking.

“That’s not clever, that’s just mean,” Gabriel said, giving you the side eye.

“I was just going to hit Tataryn,” you muttered, dropping your loaded snowball. “No one else.”

Gabriel squinted at you. “Hmph.”

“What are the mission parameters?” Genji asked. “Bury them in snow? Wrap them in lights? Deck their halls?”

“What does that even mean?” You glanced at Genji, whose expression was as flat as always.

“Do we go for first blood? Full knockout? Actual surrender?” Jesse asked, scratching his head.

Gabriel looked at the three of you and shook his head. “Just...throw snow at them and have fun. Consider this is socially-acceptable combat practice, done at very low power.”

“That’s a lot to unpack,” Jesse said.

“And we don’t have the time, because the bite-sized demolitionist is getting closer,” Gabriel scowled. “Now come on. Spread out and form a perimeter. We can’t lose to them.”

Genji nodded, grabbed a branch, and hoisted himself into a tree. He swung himself up the branches, as nimble as a gymnast. He had premade snowballs in his scarf.

Jesse went circled around, staying low to the ground.

You started to move, but Gabriel grabbed your wrist.

“Hold on.”

You squinted. You only saw Vo, waddling forward slowly, tossing little discs that exploded into snow showers. Where were the rest of them? Instinctively, you looked behind you, but they weren’t there. “Diversion?”

“Yeah,” Gabriel sighed. The two of you huddled there behind the bushes. You sipped your whiskey. It wouldn’t be right for the four of you to go up against little old Vo, despite the fact she was carrying fucking explosives.

“Where the hell are they?” You scowled.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Gabriel said, and held out his hand for the drink.

“I thought it was bland-” You passed it to him.

“Yeah, it is. You can’t possibly be enjoying it _that_ much. Now give it here.” Gabriel took a swig. “The kid made this, didn’t he?”

“Wasn’t me,” you said.

Vo was now only a few meters away.

Genji made his move, shaking a heavy branch, raining buckets of snow down onto her head. Clearly, Genji didn’t have the same qualms you did.

Shrieking, Vo tried to run backward, but she tripped and toppled over. For a moment, you expected her to bounce back up and run, but it seemed that she was wearing so many layers that she couldn’t actually bend her joints. She just lay there on her back, huffing and puffing as she struggled to get up.

She began to swear loudly in French.

“She’s turtled. We better go help her.”

Gabriel sighed. “Genji-”

Genji dropped out of the tree, snow flying as he landed. Genji grabbed Vo’s mittened-hands, and pulled her to her feet.

That’s when the flashbang went off.

White light tore through your skull and you swore, falling backward onto your ass. You weren’t sure if Jesse had thrown it, or if Vo literally had a trap up her sleeve.

You felt the bushes shake, and braced yourself for an ambush, but it was just Gabriel charging forward.

Hands on your face, you blinked rapidly, trying to get the stars out of your eyes. Well, you had come out to see the lights, but this was _not_ what you’d had in mind.

There was a flurry of activity ahead. You could hear shouting, heavy footsteps, and Vo continuing to screech obscenities. It took you a few minutes to get your bearings. But by then, it seemed an entire crowd had gathered.

Spots of your vision had returned, and you carefully climbed to your feet, your ears ringing. You wobbled a little, listening for sounds of combat, but it just seemed like a bunch of people were talking. You sincerely thought about just sitting it out in the bushes, but it was cold, and Gabriel still had your drink, so you stumbled out, blearily.

There _was_ an entire crowd gathered. At the head of them was the goddamn Strike Commander in a Santa hat, his arms crossed, his expression decidedly not jolly. Behind him, Reinhardt hovered, in a full Santa costume, a worried look on his face. Angela, dressed sensibly in layers with no Santa hat, was looking over Vo, who had not yet emerged from her cocoon of winter clothes, but who was upright and chattering angrily.

Winston and Torby were examining the smoldering ruin of what had to be the flashbang. Torby was the third Santa of the group, while Winston had on a Rudolph tie, the nose light blinking.

Genji and Jesse were nowhere in sight, and Gabriel stood by Vo, calmly sipping your drink.

“-exactly did you think you were doing?” Jack growled, looking between Vo and the spent explosive.

“Seasonal team-building exercise,” Gabriel said, a faint smirk on his face.

“What team? I come out to see you and Vo-” He looked up, eyes widening as he saw you emerge from the bushes. “Lucky?”

“Sorry, I’m still getting my bearings,” you winced, rubbing your eyes.

“Were you in the bushes with Reyes?” Torby asked, snickering.

There was no good way to answer that, so you pretended not to hear it.

Jack narrowed his eyes at you. “What’s going on here, Lucky?”

“Snowball fight,” you said, because it was true, and because you weren’t a goddamn snitch.

“Snowball fight?” The incredulity in Jack’s voice was kind of funny. “There was an _explosion_.”

“No one was really hurt,” Gabriel scowled.

“Snowball fight,” you repeated with a nod. “Blackwatch style.”

There was a pause as everyone digested your words.

Winston cleared his throat, obviously trying not to sound like he was laughing. Obviously failing. Torby and Angela exchanged knowing looks with Torby rolling his eye, and Angela covering her smile.

Jack looked between you and Gabriel, eyes narrowed, lips pursed.

You stalked over to Gabriel and plucked your drink out of his hand. But the cup was empty. Sighing heavily, you glared at him. Then you looked around, spotting Genji clinging to a branch overhead, and Jesse hunched over in another shrubbery. Cowards. Smarter than you, but cowards nonetheless.

“Is she...concussed?” Jack asked.

“Maybe. Some of the snowballs had rocks in them,” Gabriel said blandly.

Vo stood a few meters away, trying to squirm away from Angela.

“You know, you could have just organized snow-based war games scenario,” Jack said, shaking his head.

“Less fun that way,” Gabriel said, giving you a shrewd smile. His eyes darting to the side.

You followed his gaze, spotting Tataryn, Diallo, and Sinaga on their way back, each carrying a hi-powered handheld blower, the kind that could be used to move leaves, snow, and small mammals.

You carefully backed up closer to Vo.

“Hey,” you nudged her lightly. “They’re back. _Tr_ _êve_?” From underneath the hood and scarves, all you could see was a pair of dark eyes.

“ _Trêve,_ ” she muttered out of the corner of her mouth. “ _Boum.”_

“No grenades,” you whispered back.

_“Une attaque en tenaille.”_

You raised a brow.

Jack was still lecturing Gabriel about not setting up ad hoc dangerous activities and holidary decorum.

Gabriel nodded at you.

You blinked as you saw Tataryn grin at you. Diallo and Sinaga fell in beside him, raising their blowers, and angling at the Overwatch carolers.

Blackwatch petty meant a lot of things, mostly that this wasn’t over. You’d settle up with Tataryn later. But Blackwatch petty wasn’t just about revenge. There was solidarity in your spite. It meant that even if you were in conflict with Tataryn’s team, you’d drop it all to put one over on the Blues.

“-Now,” Gabriel said with a decidedly evil smile.

Several things happened at once. Vo tossed out one of those little discs, sending snow erupting at Angela. A volley of snowballs rained down from the trees, pelting Torby and Winston, even as Jesse began to launch more, nailing Jack right in the face.

And then Tataryn’s team came in, blowing a thick maelstrom of snow from the other side. It was a wall of white, fogging up the air.

You made your own snowball, and as Jack wiped his face off, you nailed him again.

Doubled over laughing, Gabriel was caught off guard when Reinhardt threw a proportionally large hunk of crunchy snow at his face. Gabriel’s head snapped back, and he swore, kicking snow back at the giant Crusader.

“Get’em before they regroup!” Jesse called.

You hurled more snowballs, pulling Vo backward with you. A strategic retreat was in order. You couldn’t take Reinhardt, Winston, and Jack together in a straight fight. And you didn’t really want Angela and Torby mad at you, since they were the ones routinely fixing your prostheses.

A man-made blizzard blanketed the area, but in the midst of it, you caught a glimpse of Gabriel cupping Jack’s face. He leaned over and planted a scorching hot kiss on the Strike Commander...before shoving snow down his shirt and taking off running in the opposite direction towards Tataryn’s group.

“Come on, sugarpie,” Jesse said, coming up beside you and Vo. “We need to beat feet.”

“What? We need to move faster!” Genji scowled. He took one look at Vo and slung her up over his shoulder.

She screeched.

“Do you want to be left behind?” He snapped.

She quieted then, muttering threateningly in French.

“Calm down, Lucky is making us nabe later this week,” Genji said.

“What?” You wheezed as you headed back toward the Blackwatch building.

“It’ll be a seasonal team-building exercise,” Jesse laughed.

You didn’t have the breath to answer him. All you could hope was that it turned out better than this one.

**Author's Note:**

> We'll be having something on the discord the weekend of the 10/24. I don't know what, I just came off an 11 hour shift and am stupid-tired. (This work week was supposed to be less intense than last week, but _it wasn't_.) Anyway, [come to the discord](https://discord.gg/UyrHrG) if you want to make suggestions/vote/socialize.


End file.
